


Sing For Absolution

by darenotlove



Category: Hanson
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 03:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darenotlove/pseuds/darenotlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He follows him everywhere. Unstoppable. Unannounced. Uninvited.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sing For Absolution

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short story I wrote 4 years ago, which is kind of insane to think about. It feels like yesterday. I've been a little nostalgic this weekend, and I found myself reading this over, editing it a little, and wanting to share it with a new audience. Hope someone out there likes it. <3
> 
> If you read the pairings/tags, you know that this story is about Taylor and Zac Hanson (who are brothers) as a romantic couple. It's only vague, for the most part, but it's there. Just FYI.

Taylor should have known that Zac would find him here.

 

There's nowhere he can go to get away from him, Zac knows him to well, he knows where he'll be and there's nothing Taylor can do to stop him from showing up. Even when he thinks he's chosen some random place where no one else would ever think to look for him, deep down he knows it's only a matter of time before he looks over his shoulder and sees those agonizingly familiar caramel eyes staring at him from across the room.

 

He follows him everywhere. Unstoppable. Unannounced. Uninvited.

 

The studio is supposed to be his escape, it's the one place he has always been able to run to and shut the real world out for however long he needs to in order to survive whatever it is that's trying to pull him under. But it offers him no refuge from Zac. Taylor knows he's there even before he speaks, he can feel him standing there in the doorway. And even though he knows it's useless, he pretends he's alone and hopes that Zac will leave him be for once.

 

Just for once.

 

His fingertips hover above the smooth ebony and ivory as he closes his eyes and takes a deep, cleansing breath. But just as he's about to play, he hears his little brother's voice and his hands hit the wrong keys in surprise. Loud, threatening dissonance fills the room, booming and making him cringe, every muscle in his body tensing as his fingers curl into frustrated fists.

 

“It could use a drum fill.”

 

“Thanks for the input.” Taylor snaps bitterly.

 

Zac takes a step into the room, Taylor can tell, even though he refuses to look at him. “The bridge could use a little work.”

 

“The bridge is fine.”

 

“It's good, but it could be even better if you-”

 

“I said the bridge is fine!” He whirls around on the piano bench, glaring angrily at the one person who always used to make him smile. “No one asked for your opinion.”

 

“That never stopped me from giving it before.” The smirk on Zac's lips only serves to irritate Taylor even further.

 

“Could you just... leave me alone, please?”

 

Zac sighs sadly and shakes his head. “You've been spending too much time alone lately, Tay.”

 

“I wonder why.”

 

“So it's my fault?” He asks, quirking an eyebrow as Taylor rolls his eyes impatiently and turns back to the piano. “Does blaming me make you feel better?”

 

The room is silent, one brother sitting completely still, gritting his teeth and staring intently at his own hands, willing the other to just disappear. But he knows that even if he leaves, it won't be for long. It never is.

 

“Fine, I'll go.” Zac finally relents, and Taylor holds his breath until he can no longer feel the undeniably enticing presence lingering behind him.

 

It takes him a moment to summon the courage to look over his shoulder and make certain that he's alone once again, and he hates the tugging sensation he feels in his chest when he finds that he is. He doesn't want him around, but it still hurts that he's gone.

 

It never stops hurting.

 

* * *

 

The faintly salted water bubbles wildly in the pot on the stove, and Taylor stares at it, mesmerized by its fury. He thinks that maybe, if he could actually _see_ his emotions, they might look a little something like this. It takes him a while to remember why he boiled the water in the first place, and he half-heartedly walks over to the pantry to retrieve a box of spaghetti. He's not really all that hungry, he hardly ever is anymore, and nothing seems to have any taste at all. But he forces himself to eat at least once a day because he knows that if his weight loss becomes too noticeable, his mother will hassle him about it incessantly. He doesn't need someone else harassing him all the time, one is more than enough.

 

“What's for dinner?”

 

Speak of the devil.

 

“Pizza.” He replies sarcastically. “What does it look like.”

 

“It looks like the water is bubbling over.”

 

Taylor spins around quickly, cussing under his breath as the water flows over the edge of the pot, hitting the stove with a loud hiss of warning. But when he grabs the handle and pulls it off of the burner, the motion is too sudden, and the scalding liquid splashes over onto his hand.

 

“Shit!” He releases his grip instantly and the pot tumbles to the kitchen floor with a loud clatter. Both men jump back quickly to avoid getting hit as the water and spaghetti flies everywhere.

 

“Are you okay?” Zac asked worriedly, watching his big brother hurry over to the sink and hold his hand under the faucet, wincing and biting his lip as the stream of cold water hits his bright red skin. “Let me see.”

 

The second he takes a step closer, Taylor pulls his hand away and glowers at him. “I'm fine.”

 

“You're not fine, you burned your hand.”  
  


“I'll live.”

 

With a roll of his eyes, Zac takes another step closer, but Taylor simply takes a step of his own, maintaining the distance between them. “Would you quit being stubborn?”

 

“Why? You wanna help me?”

 

“Is that so hard to believe?”

 

“Yes!” He bellows aggressively, but Zac barely even flinches at the volume and the harshness of his voice. “You don't give a shit about me.”

 

“That's not true!”

 

“Yes it is! You only care about what _you_ want. If you cared about me at all, you wouldn't be here.  If you really want to help me, how about you back off and stop bothering me!”

 

He feels a twinge of guilt and regret when he sees the unmistakably wounded look in the normally warm and cheerful eyes gazing back at him, but he can't, _won't_ , let himself take it back. He believes it's the truth, and sometimes the truth hurts.

 

“I'm not trying to bother you, Tay, all I wanna do is help.”

 

“You can't!”

 

“Because you won't _let_ me!”

 

“How the hell do you expect me to do that?! I can't, it's impossible, I just...”

 

Zac shakes his head faintly, reaching out to touch the broken heart before him, but it shrinks away from him almost fearfully. “Tay-”

 

“Get out!”

 

“I'm here if you decide you wanna talk, okay?” He almost pleads, refusing to give up hope that the person he used to share everything with will eventually let him back in.

 

Taylor watches as Zac turns and walks away, and he wishes it would make him feel better to finally be free of him. It was what he asked for, what he _begged_ for. But it doesn't feel better.

 

It never feels better.

 

* * *

 

Isaac smiles at the waitress as she places two plates full of food on the table, pancakes for himself and French toast for his brother, who doesn't even acknowledge the young woman's existence when she politely asks if there's anything else she can get them.

 

“I think we're good, thanks.” Isaac tells her gratefully, turning his attention to Taylor as soon as she leaves. “You've been removed from civilization for a little too long.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“You could've said thank you, you know?” When Taylor frowns at him in confusion, Isaac realizes that his brother has absolutely no idea what's going on. His lack of manners wasn't intentional, just a result of him zoning out. Something that seems to be happening more and more frequently. “Forget it.”

 

While Isaac eagerly digs into his breakfast, the lost soul sitting across from him simply prods his with a fork, scraping off the over-zealous dusting of powdered sugar but showing no signs of any intent to actually eat the French toast beneath it.

 

“Not hungry?” Taylor shrugs and drops his fork onto the plate with a clatter as he slumps against the back of his chair. “Why'd you order it if you aren't gonna eat it?”

 

“Because you told me that if I didn't order something, you were gonna order for me.”

 

“I'm worried about you, man.” Isaac sighs, noting the visible annoyance on Taylor's face. “I practically had to drag you out here, it feels like I hardly ever see you anymore. And... no offense, but you're not exactly looking all that great.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“I'm sorry, but it's true. You look sick. You're pale, you're _way_ too thin, and you look like you haven't slept in a month-”

 

“Is this what you brought me here for? To tell me I look like shit and force feed me French toast?” Taylor mutters bitingly.

 

“I brought you here to spend some time with you and get you out of your apartment for once.”

 

“I go out.”

 

“You go to the studio or the middle of nowhere...” He shakes  his head as his brother looks away, pretending he doesn't even hear him. “You do your best to avoid ever having to be around people, even just me. It's not healthy.”

 

“It's what I want. I'm not hurting anyone, so what does it even matter?”

 

“Of course you're hurting people! People care about you and they're worried about you! You think it doesn't hurt us to see you like this? That's when we get to see you at all!” Isaac argues lividly, wondering how his once sensitive and often almost intuitive sibling could be so blind to the heart ache he's causing his own family.

 

“I don't need this.”

 

Pulling a wrinkled twenty dollar bill out of his wallet, Taylor throws it carelessly on the table beside his uneaten food before sliding off of his chair and stalking out of the diner, ignoring Isaac's insistence that he come back and talk to him. He can't go back, he doesn't want to be lectured about the way he lives his life. He's so sick of being told that there's something wrong with him, he just wants to be left alone.

 

“How'd it go?”

 

He jumps in surprise at the sound of Zac's voice, turning on his heel to find him standing right outside the restaurant. “What the hell are you doing here?”  
  
“I knew you guys were meeting for breakfast, I figured it wasn't gonna go so well... thought you might need to talk.”

 

“Yeah, well, I don't. And even if I did, it wouldn't be to you.” Taylor mutters, stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking away, knowing he'll be followed but clinging to the hope that maybe this time he's wrong.

 

“You can't keep running away from me forever.”

 

“And you can't stop me from trying.”

 

Zac catches up to him effortlessly, falling into step beside him as they weave their way down the crowded sidewalk. “Sooner or later, you're gonna have to talk to me.”

 

“If those are my only options, I choose later. How does fifty years from now work for you?”

 

“Whenever. I'll be here.”

 

“Damnit!” Taylor shouts in overwhelming frustration, stopping mid-stride and causing several people around them to turn and stare. “Would you _please_ just leave me the hell alone?! I can't deal with you constantly badgering me, you're _everywhere_! Why can't you just go away? It's not fair! I don't want you here!”

 

“Maybe not. But you _need_ me here.”

 

He shakes his head defiantly, turning and leaving Zac standing alone in the ever moving throng of people around them. He refuses to believe that he needs anyone, least of all Zac. He _can't_ need him, he can't count on him. He's been made painfully aware of that fact.

 

And Zac can never make it right.

 

* * *

 

It's been a week since he last left his apartment, and possibly just as long since he last saw sunlight that wasn't obscured by blinds or drapes. He ran out of food a couple of days ago, but he didn't want to eat anyway. It meant he had to get out of bed and go into the kitchen, and the kitchen was just a little too far away.

 

The phone stopped ringing after a while. Probably because he unplugged it. And after a few failed attempts to get him to answer the door, whoever was knocking finally left him in peace. Even Zac seems to have given up on him. He's been alone for seven days and six nights, and he doesn't think it's so bad really. Which is good, because he's pretty sure it's how he's going to stay for the rest of his life.

 

He blinks slowly, his eyelids feeling impossibly heavy despite the amount of sleep he's been getting, and as he rolls over in bed to return to blissful unconsciousness, his heart sinks.

 

“No.” He groans, squeezing his eyes shut tightly for a few seconds before opening them again, hoping that it's all in his head and he's not really seeing _him_ standing there in his bedroom doorway. “Fuck. I thought you'd finally taken the hint.”

 

“Does that sound like something I'd do?” Zac asks him, and though his tone holds a hint of playfulness, there's nothing but concern in his eyes.

 

“I don't want you here. This is _my_ home.”

 

“It used to be my home, too. Remember?”

 

Taylor throws off the sheets and climbs out of bed, ignoring the comment as he makes his way across the room and into the adjoining bathroom. He doesn't want to think about what it _used_ to be, what they used to be. It's all gone now. Ruined. Unsalvageable. Splashing cold water on his face, he takes deep breaths and tries to calm himself down. But he can't control the anger and despair he feels whenever he sees Zac's face, or hears his voice, or even just feels his presence in a room.

 

When he raises his head, wiping the water drops from his chin as he glances at his reflection in the mirror above the sink, he sighs in defeat at the sight of him standing there.

 

“ _Why_ won't you go?”

 

“I can't.” His brother, his former lover, admits quietly. “I can't leave you alone like this, Tay.”

 

“But you _did_ leave me alone!” Taylor points out emotionally, his voice cracking as he fights back the impending rush of tears. “Don't you remember?”

 

Zac nods slowly. “I'm sorry... I never wanted to.”

 

“But you _did_ , and you can't change it now.”

 

“I know. That's not why I'm here.”

 

“Then _why_ are you here?” He implores desperately, feeling like he's quickly losing any grasp he still has on his sanity. “I wish you'd just leave, I can't do this anymore!”

 

“So don't. Let it go.”

 

“I don't understand!”

 

“Tell me you hate me.” The younger man says simply, taking a careful step closer, his eyes glistening with sorrow. “Say it.”

 

It should be easy. He's furious with him, he has been since it happened. It gets worse every day, and it shouldn't take him any thought or effort to say those three little words. But as he stares at the person he always loved more than anyone or anything else on the planet, he can't make himself say what it is he believes he's been feeling for so long.

 

“Say it.” Zac insists, his voice unsteady as he takes another step towards him. “Tell me you hate me.”

 

“No.”

 

“Go on, do it.” Taylor shakes his head once again, turning his face away. “ _Say_ it, Taylor!”  
  


“No!” He practically screams at him, helplessly giving in to the tears, feeling Zac so close that he's almost cornered. He can't see a way out, all he can see is him.

 

“Why?” The question comes across more like a demand than a curious inquiry.

 

“Because I don't hate you, I hate _me_!” He confesses, choking on a sob as he finally breaks down, his head falling into his hands as his brother watches him patiently through tears of his own. “It's my fault.”

 

“How?”

 

“I let you leave.” The statement barely makes it past his lips as he gasps for air and shakes his head forlornly. “We had that stupid fight... I let you leave... I let you go and I lost you. If I'd just said I was sorry... if I'd taken it back...” He squeezes his eyes shut, more tears escaping regardless, eagerly seeking their freedom after being held captive for so long. “If I hadn't let you leave, you would have been here with me. You never would have been there... you never would have...”

 

The memory of that night hits him so hard that he feels as though he can no longer stand up, and he grips the edge of the sink as his legs fail and he drops to the cold floor beneath him. He hears it again, the loud knock on the door, the one that pulled him out of his bed in the middle of the night, though he hadn't been asleep anyway. He could never sleep after fighting with Zac. He remembers how it felt, how his stomach plummeted with dread as he opened the door to the solemn faces of the two police officers standing out in the hallway. He'd refused to believe them at first, he'd repeatedly told them there had to be a mistake.

 

But there wasn't.

 

Zac had died on the scene of a car wreck while Taylor had been lying in their bed, alone, thinking up scathing things to say to him when he finally decided to come crawling back in search of forgiveness.

 

Only he never came back, and the only person searching for forgiveness now is Taylor.

 

“It wasn't your fault.” He shakes his head hopelessly as Zac crouches down beside him. “Taylor, listen to me, it _wasn't_ your fault. And it wasn't my fault, and it wasn't the other guy's fault... it just happened. It was an _accident_.”

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

Taylor weeps uncontrollably, and he's certain he can feel Zac's hand on his back, but he doesn't understand how that's possible. He hasn't been able to understand how seeing him at all is possible, but being _touched_ by him is another thing entirely. He's too afraid to look up, he doesn't want to see that it's all in his head, he wants to believe it's real.

 

“It's okay.” Zac soothes him gently, his hand rubbing slow circles between his tense, shaking shoulders. “You need to let this go, Tay. You need to stop punishing yourself for it, _I_ need you to. You have _nothing_ to be sorry for, do you understand?”

 

He gives an almost imperceptible nod, drawing in a long, shaky breath as he tries to calm himself down. Zac's word's play on a loop in his head, they're everything he's been needing to hear since the night he lost him, but no one has said it until now because nobody knew that he blamed himself. Nobody but Zac. And he's been too busy running from him, running from the guilt, to accept absolution from him.

 

“I love you.”

 

Another sob racks Taylor's body at the sound of the words he's missed so much, but when he raises his head to tell Zac that he loves him, too... he finds himself alone.

 

And for the first time in weeks, he wishes he wasn't.

 


End file.
